Hunt Not So Simple
by Haline
Summary: Legolas arrives in Imladris, and goes hunting with Estel and the twins. All four learn that there are things much worse than Orcs...and treachery is found anywhere. And why is Legolas so thin?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. My name is Haline, and this is my first proper attempt at a fan fic. Please leave reviews, if you would be so kind. They will help me a lot as I grow to be a better writer. I hope you enjoy my story, and please read and review...constructive criticisms are VERY welcome, lol. :).Like many ffnet writers, I make the assumption that Estel is a brother to Elladan and Elrohir, and a son to Elrond. Please do not flameme if you disagree.Elvish translations are marked with '#' and thoughts are initalics. Please excuse any errors you may find in the writing - I do not have a beta reader, just my trusty spell check! I upped the rating a bit to be on the safe side, I hope nobody minds this. Yes, there will be angst, but not until Chapter 3 or so...well, enough rambles, on with the story! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 1**

The woods around Imladris were quiet, the daytime call of birds silenced by the impending nightfall. A slight breeze from the north blew among the trees and caressed the bright faces of the Elven Lords, Elladan and Elrohir. The one for whom they waited was said to be coming that night, and their excitement was not altogether concealed beneath their fair features.

Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm, son of the King, Crown Prince of Greenwood…these titles all belonged to him. Yet Legolas was he to these Noldor twins…and their adoptive teenage brother, Estel.

The trees began to rustle louder – someone was coming. Elladan motioned silently to his younger brother, his mirror image. Not many could tell them apart, and yet they were different…Elrohir was the younger, the scholar, healer and the cautious one. His twin was again different. He was loud, raucous and altogether unpredictable. When they were together though, they made an unstoppable duo in battles, on the practice field, in the classroom…and in pranks.

'Come,' Elrohir said, 'the trees say someone is near'. He dragged at his brother's arm.

'Aye', the elder agreed, and the two hurried down the stone steps of the last Homely House, navy robes swishing behind them. Darkness was fast approaching. When they reached the bottom of the flight of stairs, Elrohir stood still again, while Elladan bounced slightly on the balls of his feet.

At last, the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones of the courtyard preceded a hooded rider. Only the mare the rider was using, a common visitor to Imladris, gave the Prince away by nuzzling trustingly at Elladan's hand.

'Mae Govannen, young Prince!' Elrohir grinned as he greeted his old friend. #Well met#.

'Alas, melyn nin, I cannot fool you with my sinister disguise.' Legolas slid off Refrondir's back, and pulled back his hood. Light blonde hair spilled over his shoulders, and his blue eyes sparkled in the ever-gathering dusk. #My friends#.

Elrohir pulled Legolas into his embrace, pressing the younger elf's head against his shoulder. 'It has been too long,' he whispered, grinning into the prince's blonde locks. Then, he was pushed out of the way – it was Elladan's turn. Legolas hugged both affectionately, then stepped back and spread his arms out for them to see his torso.

'No wounds, poisoned or no, no bruises, bite marks of any sort…no broken bones, no infections or illnesses…and no Orc arrows sticking out of my…'

'I think that will do.' A slightly deeper and more serious voice was heard from the top of the flight of stairs. The Lord Elrond of Rivendell, bearer of one of the three Elven rings walked down, the corners of his mouth twitching in a mostly suppressed smile. Legolas whispered to his mare in Elvish, and Refrondir obediently trotted off in the direction of the stables.

'Welcome, Legolas,' the Lord of Rivendell addressed the prince. 'It has been long, child.' Legolas leant into the warmth of the Noldor's embrace, thankful to at last be away from his princely duties. He didn't say anything, but Elrond felt the channel of affection flowing stronger than he had felt before.

'Thank you for agreeing to take me on such short notice, Lord Elrond,' Legolas grinned 'especially knowing that we would go out hunting…'

'I don't suppose this time will be any different?' Elrond asked with a sigh. 'If it is of any comfort to the four of you, I have re-stocked my medical supply.'

'Where is Estel?' Legolas noticed the absence of their youngest companion.' Elrond looked at his sons.

'We…er…' Elladan began, 'he has just returned to Imladris from a routine border patrol. He wanted to stay up to greet you, but he…is now sleeping'.

'In other words, you drugged him with _thelostan_?' This was one of the most potent sleeping potions known to the people of Middle Earth.

Elrohir dug the toe of his boot to the ground, and coughed discreetly. 'He was tired,' was all he said. Legolas burst out laughing.

'The night is growing dark,' Elrond remarked, and slipped his arm around Legolas' shoulders. 'There has been a hot bath prepared, my child. You must rest, for tomorrow Estel shall be after our blood…you shall need all the energy you can get.' With this, they walked up the stairs, firmly shutting the doors against the impending darkness.

Inside his room, Legolas bade goodnight to the twins and shut his door. He looked around his room with a certain amount of satisfaction. His bed was of a modest size, and furniture in his room was scarce. This was as he liked it.

Stepping into his adjoining bathing chamber, he pulled off his boots, over tunic and leggings. These, he threw in a heap on the floor, and gingerly stepped into the bath. The water's temperature was just a he liked it, hot enough and cool enough at the same time. He sighed, and sank further into the tub, savouring the feeling of the water lifting away the grime.

He gasped as the water hit the bruises marring his back; but the pain slowly eased and he relaxed once more. He looked at his thighs underneath the water…so thin, he realised. Thinner than they had been. The strains of the last few months had taken their toll, he realised.

_Never mind, _he thought _in the house of Elrond, food is plentiful and I shall not want for anything. The twins and Estel will make sure of that_. And he remembered Estel…remembered the little boy he had once known. How much had he grown in the last six months? He was sixteen now…close to becoming an adult, so close to finding out his true heritage. _But not yet_, Legolas thought. _Let him be a child these last couple of years. He is happy here, I think. Imladris will be his home forever more. _

Still dwelling on Estel, he climbed out of the bath, and wrapped a light blue towel around his waist. The material felt soft against him and he slipped into one of his night tunics, a beautifully embroidered green one, the one that was a permanent resident in Imladris. Hair still dripping from his bath, he fell onto the coverlet and was in a dreamless sleep when Elrond gently pushed open the door.

The Noldor Lord walked soundlessly across the room and looked at the sleeping prince. In the softly lit room, Elrond's trained eye could see the dark shadows under the prince's eyes, and the slightly hanging fit of his sleeping tunic. Legolas had lost weight, he thought. Going to the cupboard where the light blankets were kept, he selected a beige coverlet and laid it over Legolas.

Elrond stooped down and planted a gentle kiss on his brow. 'May your stay do you good, child.' He whispered to the prince. 'And may you find peace for your restless mind in my halls.' The lamp was off, and Elrond walked out, gently closing the door on the sleeping Elf.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer (I did forget it in the first chapter)**: These characters belong to the wonderful J.R.R Tolkien, and sadly, I am not him nor his son…so unfortunately Middle Earth isn't mine…maybe next birthday?

**A quick note**: Hello again everyone! Thank you so much for the beautiful reviews, I am thrilled that 11 people read and reviewed in the first 24 hours! I don't know if that is a lot, but I feel so special deep breaths. Thanks to the encouragement I received, this chapter will be posted sooner than I had intended. So thank you everyone…and no, this will not be an abusive Thranduil story, I don't think any of my work will be…I am too much a fan of hurt/comfort scenes! About the speech marks, I think it does vary from country to country, thank you to Karri for pointing this out. And thank you also to ELVESRULE for raising the point! Just one last thing, school here in Australia resumes on Friday, so perhaps a post over the weekend, and then probably longer delays between posts…I am very sorry about this, writing sure beats homework…without further ado, here is:

**Chapter 2**

Bright, mid autumn sunlight filtered through the gaps of Estel's curtains. The teenage human rolled over, burying his face in a pillow. He groaned, as his aching muscles made themselves known, in the way only aching muscles could.

'Feeling sore, are we?' A soft voice called from the doorway, disrupting his hurried tally of hurts. Estel's sleepy mind began to focus, and he pushed himself up in bed.

Looking over towards the entrance to his room, he found the polished oak doors ajar, and a fair headed Elf leaning against the intricate framework. Hurriedly, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. How did he get here? He hurriedly pieced together the fragments of the night before. _Yep,_ he thought _two and two make four. _

'They drugged me, didn't they?' The young man asked rhetorically, as he clambered out of bed and headed towards Legolas. His grey sleeping tunic swished about him, accentuating steely eyes and dark hair.

'But of course, mellon nin!' The Mirkwood Elf replied, embracing his young friend. 'Since when can you be trusted to do what is best?' Estel threw a lighthearted punch into Legolas' shoulder.

'I resent that, ELF!' The two friends grinned at each other, and Estel gave Legolas a once over glance. The elf was fully dressed, in a tunic of pale gold and green, his fair hair done in warrior braids. Legolas surveyed Estel, but admittedly, achieved much less glamorous results. Sleep tousled hair was lank and looked as if a wash would do it good, and the eyes were still droopy – a sure indicator that the patrol had not been an easy one.

Legolas lifted his arms and put them on Estel's shoulders. The human was spun around and propelled across the room, into the adjoining washroom. The elf indicated the sink. Estel sighed and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

'Prissy Elf,' he complained as he splashed water over his face, 'can't handle anyone looking less than their best.' He turned around face dripping wet. A brown towel was thrust at him, and as he emerged from wiping his face, Legolas shoved an over tunic over his head, and threw the breeches at him.

'Legolas…' Estel whined, 'It has been a good ten years since you have had to dress me.' Legolas snorted.

'And I should hope now is not the time to start.' He turned around, while Estel attempted to don the breeches. 'But nay my friend, I dressed you when you were ill but a year ago.'

Estel caught the Elf's eye as he turned to face Legolas and thought he saw a trace of emotion in the blue orbs. But it was gone when he looked twice and Legolas grinned again. 'Come on scruffy human! Breakfast time!'

Legolas knocked on Elrond's study door, the oak making a pleasant sound as his knuckles connected thrice.

'Enter, Legolas!' Elrond called from within, his voice light and friendly. The prince pushed the doors open, and he was greeted with the comforting view of the Elf Lord seated on a divan, sipping tea. A bright fire was burning in the grate, its fiery fingers licking the brickwork inside the fireplace. Legolas bowed quickly and seated himself next to Elrond.

'You wanted to see me, my Lord.' Legolas stated, having trouble looking the Noldor Elf in the face. This did not go unnoticed by Elrond, and he sighed, placing his cup on the small table in front of him, and pouring Legolas one from a pewter teapot sitting on the table.

'Legolas, you know you may talk to me about anything you would like. Now I ask you as your friend, not as a Lord, to confide in me what has happened to you.' Elrond felt Legolas' thoughts swirl.

'Nay, Elrond. 'Tis pointless to say to you that everything is as usual, but I feel you know much of what has happened already.' Legolas met his eye at last, and attempted a small smile.

'Yes, child, I have the accounts of a few people, but they are jumbled, and most I feel are far from the truth. I know Thranduil is in the Iron Hills on a peacemaking mission with the Dwarves. I know also that his cousin took the throne for the six months Thranduil planned to be away. What I do not know is why YOU did not take the responsibility of Lasgalen…you are of age to do so.' It seemed Elrond had touched upon something more sinister than it appeared, for the eyes of Legolas shadowed.

'My Lord, this was the cause of an disagreement between my father and I before I left.' The wood elf's voice was soft, as though he hated admitting this. 'I am not accustomed to fighting with Adar.' #Father#.

'I know, Legolas.'

'He wanted me to take the throne, but I declined. We worked it out before he left for the Iron Hills.' Legolas smiled. 'He said it was all right, so he got my uncle to take care of the throne. He does not live inside the palace walls, although he is royalty. He does not enjoy the confines of the palace.'

'Would this happen to be Angrod?' Elrond asked.

'Yes, my Lord, it would indeed.'

Elrond's eyes darkened and he felt what had happened. There had been much pain for Legolas, he could feel this as plainly as if it had happened to his own sons. A strange feeling materialised in his shoulders and upper back. He put his hand gently on Legolas' back.

'Legolas, please do not hide your hurts from me, I will help you.' His patient's blue eyes misted up, and he allowed Elrond to lift his tunic and undershirt. _Alas_, the prince thought, _sometimes even a grown up Elf needs to feel like a child. _

At last, the tunic was raised sufficiently high to expose the bruises and welts on his back. Most were in the shape of a thin rod, though some went deeper.

'Oh Legolas,' Elrond sighed, 'you should have come sooner…I never trusted Angrod, although your father does. I will tend to them, but Legolas, give me your word that you will not go back to him while Thranduil is away.' Elrond gave Legolas a halfhearted smile. 'I will not tell Estel, or the twins. I know you won't want them to know.'

Legolas grinned at Elrond, feeling slightly better that he wasn't the only one that knew about Angrod's evil intentions. 'I won't go back, Elrond. I promise I shall overstay your hospitality and stay until Father gets back.'

'All right, Legolas,' The Noldor Lord replied, standing up. 'Just come quickly by the healing chambers, and I shall fix your back up.' Legolas made as if to get up but Elrond halted him by a gentle arm on the shoulder. He knelt down to face Legolas.

'Legolas, please tell your father when he gets back. A Elf who does this intentionally to another of his kind has no business ruling a kingdom'.

A/N – I didn't like this chapter myself as I liked the first one…it has a lot of conversation…but it was a necessary chapter; it explains some of what has happened to Legolas. Never fear angst is coming, the next chapter or the one after…I have a much clearer idea of where this story is going now, so it will all come together before the end, never fear…I can't wait to write the next chappie! It should be lots of fun! Anyway, I dohope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you all thought, as I have found the joy of lovely people reviewing…of course not everyone has to like my stories, therefore criticisms are much welcome, and will help me on the road to success, where I believe we all want to go…me included! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 2**

**A short note: **Hello everybody! First thanks to my darling reviewers for being so encouraging and also making comments about how to improve my writing, I cannot tell you how happy you guys make me feel, and how much you have helped me along. Now it is the time for Chapter 3, but to those people who plan on reviewing, would you please tell me if you would rather shorter chapters and only 2-3 days between updates or longer chapters and about 5-6 days between updates? It's going to be somewhat of a vote, so please help me out! And this chapter is very short…I thought I would write some now, because maybe I won't be able to update over the weekend… Now, I did have something I would like to share with you…here you all go! Enjoy!

**Chapter 3 **

Estel drew his sword, and examined the blade. Some Elvish runes were inscribed upon it, and the blade shone brightly in the sunlight outside the stables. His hair fluttered in the early morning breeze, only the slightly cooler mornings reminded him winter was fast approaching. He grinned to himself.

'But there is still time for a last hunt 'afore the nights get too cold,' he muttered, sheathing his sword once more.

'Talking to ourselves, are we, little brother?' Elladan bounded down the stairs, dark mane of hair swishing behind him. Elrohir grinned and emerged from Egrestil's stall, clapping his foster brother on the shoulder. The teenager scowled at both of the twins, features tightly suppressing a grin.

'Where is Legolas?' Elrohir asked, motioning to Refrondir's elfless stall. The mare whickered as if in answer.

'Seeing Ada, look, he is here now.' The three brothers looked up to see Legolas running down the stairs, slinging a quiver with a dozen arrows over his back as he came. He also carried a large, bulky brown satchel. This package was all too familiar to the four adventurers.

Elladan rushed forward and snatched the satchel from Legolas.

'Ai, my friend of many adventures!' he exclaimed, 'how many lives have you saved? My friend!'He kissed the satchel fervently and holding it above his head like a prize. The other three laughed and Elrohir seized the brown satchel, strapping it firmly on Egrestil's back.

'Oh stop your antics, Elladan!' Estel exclaimed. 'Let us be off already.'

'Yes, and stop making rackets under my window when I am trying to work, please.' Elrond's voice came down from the window above them. 'And I don't want any of you coming back hurt, my healing supplies won't stand for it.' He shook his fist in mock anger, his tone light.

With those words, the four of them mounted their horses, and rode out of the courtyard, out of the gates and away from Imladris.

&&&&&&&

Angrod motioned to one of his captains. Lefellon hurriedly stepped away from the parchment he was perusing, and joined the substitute king at the window.

'You see all these lands?' he asked the captain, his voice deeper than an ordinary elf's.

'Yes, hir Angrod.' Lefellon replied, eager to share in the powerful man's plans. The palace window overlooked the woodland beyond the walls of the palace. Angrod turned to his captain and right hand man, a slight smile breaking across his pale features. #Lord#

'These lands shall be mine.'

'What of the King, my Lord?' Lefellon queried, his eyes bright.

'King and prince alike shall be no more.'

&&&&&&&

The woods around Imladris were as they usually were...quiet. Birds twittered in the branches of the overhead trees, and thefour travellers made their way down a narrow track, leading their horses.

'Stop!' Elrohir, who was leading, cried.

'Oh brother, lighten your instincts…we are but two miles from the border,' his twin said, coming forth to stand behind Elrohir.

'No!' Legolas chimed in. 'Listen!' Horse, human and elfalike pricked their ears towards the sound that was fast becoming apparent.

'What is it?' Elladan asked, concern etched in his voice. 'I have heard nothing like it in my life.'

'You have, El.' Elrohir stated simply. 'Wild Men'.

* * *

A/N – Minor cliffie…I hope you liked it; please let me know what you thought. Chapter 4 could be updated over the weekend, but maybe not…got a music assignment given on the first day of school…gaaah! Anyway, see you all in the next chapter. Take care! 


	4. Chapter 4

**A quick note**: Hi again, everybody! Sorry it's been such a time coming, but some things have happened in my family recently, along with school…and Ollie (my muse) has left for his long deserved holidays. I am confined to by bedroom due to a cold… so here I am again, museless, but with an update! Enjoy!

P.S – Yes, the satchel was a healing satchel…I did not realise that I had forgotten to tell you what it was…my sincerest apologies about that blunder **grins**

**Disclaimer: **Please see Chapter 2.

Chapter 4 

Soon, even Estel's ears could hear the rustling of leaves that grew progressively louder.

Legolas looked around in panic. His blue eyes grew wider and he shrunk into himself. A shiver wracked his body. Elrohir put a hand on the prince, feeling him shaking and looked at him.

'We have to leave.' Legolas enounced.

'There cannot be more than fifteen, Legolas.' Elladan attempted to placate the young prince. 'We can take them easily, it will be fine. They will do much more damage if we leave them to trample the trees.'

At the mention of damage to the trees, Legolas straightened himself and stood upright, notching his bow. The others followed suit, Elladan branching off by himself, Elrohir moving close to Estel, and Legolas stood as he was, in the middle of the other three.

They broke through the trees, trampling them and stood sneering at what they saw…a young human man, still in his teens and three elves. But the elf in the middle was what caught their eye. Legolas looked at the second-in-chief square in the eye.

'Pretty elf, pretty elf.' He crooned at Legolas, before the Mirkwood elf let his first arrow fly, silencing him forever. This broke the trance and they ran forward, flinging themselves into battle.

Shortly, the four of them realised that Elladan had overestimated what the count of Wild Men was…it was more like ten. This was not the largest number of foes they had ever tackled, and so they had a reasonable amount of confidence. The confidence proved to be a speedy reaction that only strengthened when the fight got underway.

They were fearsome warriors though – hacking and cutting, even going so far as randomly biting flesh when Elrohir exposed it. The twin yelped, rewarding the Man with a smack on the nose, which broke. Blood streamed out in a torrent, blinding the Man and allowing Estel to finish the job. The reeking carcass fell down dead at Elrohir's feet. Legolas' bow was still as he surveyed the remainder of the warriors, of which there were about four. Although the fight had gone ill for them, some still had small smiles on their faces. They had stopped fighting, now only merely parrying blows, not delivering them. A huge Man, the largest of the group advanced on Legolas.

'Pretty Elf,' he cooed, resuming the ugly chant his late comrade had started before him. The fighting paused, the blows from the Estel and the twins growing further apart as they listened. The Man's hand slid to his arm, fiddling with his armguard as he spoke to the Prince. 'Recognise us, don't cha, boy. Thought you wouldn't see us again, hey?' Legolas blanched.

'You shall never touch me again.' He replied, notching an arrow to his bow and pointing it straight at him. The other Men were still. Estel and the twins looked confusedly at the Mirkwood Prince.

'Thought Gernuk was lying, didn't you?' the Man continued, unfazed by the arrow pointing in his direction. He gestured to the fallen Man, the one whose nose had been broken just before he died. 'Thought it couldn't have been him, thought Lord Angrod wouldn't do that to his precious little Prince?' He moved closer. 'This time, you shan't live through your encounter.'

Legolas opened one ear out to the trees. They rustled at him, providing him with their comfort and strength. They told him to stay strong. He drew comfort, and looked at the leader again.

'You will never touch me again.' Legolas repeated with more conviction. The chieftain grinned

'But we don't have to.'

As fast as an arrow, he hurled something small and wooden through the air. It embedded itself in Legolas' upper arm. The Prince felt nothing. He looked at his arm in surprise, and then pulled what proved to be a dart with a sharp point from his skin. When he looked up, Elladan and Elrohir had dispatched of the remainder of Men. They now lay dead all over the clearing, yet they all seemed content…as if they had accomplished something very important before they died – namely, the dart a confused Legolas was now holding.


	5. Chapter 5

**A short note:** Hi everyone! Hey, only a week between updates, aren't you all proud? -Waits expectantly-... Thought not…but that's ok, because I am actually planning to get into the real action soon! -Surprised gasps from audience-…hopefully in chappie six or seven! I know I keep putting it off…but the plot just keeps growing in my mind! So anyways, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter 2

**Chapter 5**

Elrond paced his study, picking up his dozens of nameless articles, brooding on his three sons and their best friend. His long hair, so similar to his son's was slightly ruffled, giving anyone who might have looked in the impression that he had had a rough night. His mind did not let him rest, providing him with constant flash backs to his conversation with Legolas, before the children had gone out hunting.

Hooves cluttered on the cobblestones in the courtyard behind him, and Elrond's instincts instinctively sharpened. Remembering that the children had only been gone for a day or so, he relaxed again, and poured himself a glass of water. Mildly curious, he took the intricately painted glass filled with the cool liquid and left his study, wondering who would have come to Imladris so unexpectedly.

His answer greeted him in the hallway…three elves and a teenager who pummelled into him as he walked round a corner. He held his arms out to prevent them from running further and looked carefully over each one before saying anything.

'Ada, we have a problem…'

'I think something was on the dagger…'

'We saw Wild Men and we fought them…'

These comments were all made at once and Elrond raised an eyebrow in a most Elrond-ish kind of way. The last remark came from Estel, who, despite the worry for his friend, was excited about having killed them and sustaining no injury. He quickly sobered and began to explain.

'We met with Wild Men, Legolas was hit by a dart, we suspect there was something on it…' he did not get the chance to finish as Elrond interrupted.

'Come to the study, I will give you something warm to drink, and I have some of the more common herbs there if I need them. We may then discuss this in peace.' He looked at the four of them. 'Unless someone needs a wound seeing to?' He looked at Legolas. 'I have herbs that will ease any discomfort you have.'

'Nay, Elrond, it causes me no pain.' For the first time, the Mirkwood elf registered this properly. It should have caused pain…this was not the first dart he had been in the path of, and they had caused him some discomfort, if not a lot of. Elrond looked carefully at the elf, but sensed nothing amiss, no aura of pain, and no distress save a hint of worry. He beckoned the four of them inside and once they had filed in, he shut the door securely behind them.

Once they had perched themselves on the divan or the soft plush chairs, Elrond asked Elladan what had taken place, him being the oldest of the four. When the son of Elrond had finished his account of recent events, the five present sighed.

'You may question me if you wish,' Legolas said to the group at large. 'I am sorry for worrying you needlessly.' Estel tittered softly and draped an arm around his friend's slim shoulders.

'Legolas, when you worry us, you do not do it needlessly,' he grinned, 'don't worry mellon nin, tell us what troubles you so. For you have not been telling us the truth from the moment you arrived.'

Legolas looked guilty as the small fellowship gathered in the room either sat forward or shifted their position until they could see Legolas' face clearly. Elrond removed Legolas' arm from his over tunic as the Prince began to speak.

'My father is in the Iron Hills, seeing to some matters there. He left my uncle Angrod in charge of Mirkwood, as I did not see myself fit to take the throne when he was away. Angrod is a power hungry elf…I myself know this, and Ada knows it, yet Angrod has never done anything ill against Mirkwood or the royal family…until now.' Legolas stopped talking and looked at the place that the dagger had stabbed him, having just been exposed by Elrond.

It was red, and slightly swollen, and there was a small hole in the middle of it. It did not pain, feeling only a little tender as Elrond poked and prodded at it.

'Before I left Mirkwood to come to Rivendell, I was, er…' The twins grinned and Estel laughed at his friend's obvious discomfort.

'Come on, Legless!' Elladan cried out, using his friend's affectionate name, adopted for him when he had broken both his legs and had sufficiently recovered to understand the significance of his new nickname.

'He means to say he was captured by the Wild Men on Angrod's orders.' Elrohir supplied for the Prince softly. 'And judging by his power-hungry nature, he plans to take Mirkwood for himself.'

Legolas nodded once at Elrohir. 'You are very quick on the uptake,' the Prince observed, grinning at his friend. Estel, who still had his arm draped casually around Legolas' shoulders, frowned at his friend, whose eyes had taken on a rather far away look.

'Legolas?'

The elf's blonde head tipped forward, and had Estel not interfered, he would have plummeted to the ground. Elladan got up from his seat, and cradled the blond head against his shoulder.

'Come on Legolas,' he whispered, 'wake up and tell us what is wrong.'


	6. Chapter 6

**A short note: **Yes, yes, it is painfully short…but on time! Yay! On with the story, and please leave a review!

**Chapter 6**

A blonde elf paced Thranduil's study. Light filtered through the window, and Angrod kept looking back to the desk, upon which a dagger was laid. He sighed with impatience every time he looked. The dagger remained unchanged. He kept pacing.

Lefellon knocked sharply on the door frame before entering the room.

'Any news, my lord?' He asked, voice harsh, and yet managing to sound expectant, like a small elfling might.

'Nothing as of yet.' Angrod told the Captain. As they simultaneously glanced at the dagger, it began to glow.

'YES!' Angrod screamed. 'And so it begins!'

'Do you think he will be alright?' A voice spoke somewhere above him. A voice well known to him, Legolas struggled to open his eyes.

'Hush, he is waking!' A slightly deeper voice said, and a hand touched Legolas on the arm.

'Wake up, penneth. Just open your eyes, come on…' #little one#

He struggled to pull himself out of the oblivion that had so effectively claimed his consciousness, and when he had opened his eyes sufficiently, it was to find four very anxious looking faces peering down at him.

'Mae Govannen, Legolas,' Elrond said, sitting down at Legolas' side. 'How do you fare?' #Welcome#.

'I am well, my Lord.' Legolas spoke for the first time, testing his voice. It was rather soft, but he was pleased to find no pain to be had anywhere within his body. When he looked at the Peredhil family, however, he met with some quite sceptic glances. 'I am not lying!' Legolas insisted, pushing himself up and seeing that he was still in the study, lying on the divan.

'And that would be a first.' Elrond said, smiling at the young elf in front of him. 'Legolas, this does not justify you passing out while you were talking with us.' There were various sounds of consent from the sons of Elrond.

'Mellon nin, we only want to help you.' Estel and Elrohir said at the same time. Neither could count how many times that had been said to the Mirkwood Prince in his life.

Legolas pushed himself up on the divan and gracefully tucked his legs underneath him, resting his chin on his knees.

'I do not know what happened, my friends,' he admitted. 'And this time I am telling the truth.'

Angrod sat at his desk, hurriedly penning a letter. How he had been waiting to write this very message! Anyone who might have looked over his shoulder would have seen its' addressee to be Thranduil, yet there was no one in the room. The curtains were drawn over the windows, done purposefully so as to better see the glow from the dagger. The letter was written in the ink of Mirkwood, a deep royal blue. The message went like this:

_Oh brother of mine,_

_Legolas has been ingested with a poison none but I can cure. So what decision will you make? Your son or your kingdom? Your kingdom needs you. Your son needs you. You would do best to abort whatever business you have in the Iron Hills and come home straightaway. If not, Legolas will die, and Mirkwood will fall. I am sure that given the choice of one of those things happening or two, you would choose one. So get here quick, or time will run out for your son and your kingdom. Choose, or both shall be lost. _


	7. Chapter 7

**A Short Note: **I wanted to update early…and the chappie is a page longer than the last one too! See, I am getting better at length, just give me time  Hope you guys enjoy, and thanks to the people who review! You guys really make my day...on with the story! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Please see Chapter 2

**Chapter 7**

Thranduil sat down abruptly, holding a shaking hand over his eyes. He would have to leave, and leave now. The messenger bird cooed miserably, in sympathy to his plight, and pecked him on the hand. He looked down at the grey and white speckled pigeon, tears swimming in his blue eyes.

'What do you suggest my friend?' He asked of it, gently stroking the smooth back. The pigeon just cocked his head at Thranduil, waiting for him to come to a conclusion. 'My son or my kingdom?' He asked, as if rhetorically, and the pigeon cooed once. 'He did not mention how long Legolas has to live from this poison.' _Why am I not more surprised than this? _He thought, pondering on Angrod's sudden…or perhaps not so sudden treachery.

Making up his mind, he picked up his travelling cloak and penned a hurried message to Referol, his second-in-command. Hurriedly rolling up this piece of parchment, he left it on top of his cluttered desk. Extracting another piece of parchment, he wrote down a second letter, taking slightly more care this time. Having done this, he took the pigeon to the window and watched for a minute as the bird took flight, the second letter attached to its leg.

'I am coming, ion-nin.' He whispered, turning around and striding out of the room, in the direction of the room used as stables.

* * *

A messenger bird flew into Elrond's study via his open window. The Noldor elf looked up as a white and grey speckled bird alighted on a small bookcase, home to some two-dozen books about the great wars, conveniently in his reach for reference. He reached for the bird, and detached the letter. Opening the parchment, his eyes fell upon these words:

_Elrond,_

_I am assuming Legolas is at Rivendell with you. Something terrible has taken place in my kingdom. I shall not speak of it by messenger bird, but shall instead ask for your guidance and advice. I am coming to Rivendell, mellon nin. I think I know my son well enough to assume he is with you... If he is not, I do not know where to look for my son. Look after him Elrond. _

_Thranduil._

Before taking any action, Elrond mused for a time. _I had so hoped I was wrong.._. _Angrod does seem a friendly elf when you meet him, and a wise one. Of late, however, that has ceased to be the case. It was not a wise decision to leave him in charge of Mirkwood. Poor Legolas. It was he who refused to take the throne. He is still a young elf, in my eyes too young to be a king, even as a substitute for a time…_

He was jerked back to the real time by a sharp rap on the door.

'Enter!'

Elladan walked in, grinning.

'Well done, ion-nin…finally.'

'Sleeping like a baby, you should come and see him, Ada!'

'He is not going to be happy when he figures out what you did. Being drugged is NOT something Legolas enjoys.' Elladan grinned, yet sobered when Elrond stopped smiling. Seeing his son had noticed his disquiet, he extended the hurriedly penned message from his old friend. He observed Elladan's face as he skimmed the message. The fine features drew more taught with every line he read.

'No, Ada.' Elladan shook his head. 'No. We cannot let Legolas die.'

'Think reason, Elladan!' Elrond's voice was sharp. 'It may come to it that I cannot find the antidote. What then, ion-nin? Shall we let thousands die over one elf?' He took a deep breath, seeing his son momentarily flinch with the rebuke. He sighed. 'I am sorry Elladan. My tongue was too quick for my mind. But you know what I say is true. If it comes to that…'

'We are not yet there, Ada.' Elladan replied firmly. He turned on his heel, and went down the hallway leading to his twin's room.

* * *

Lefellon rushed backwards and forwards, yelling out commands at his troops. As Captain and chief, his job was strenuous…yet he enjoyed every minute of it. Aiding his lord in his revenge would be sweet…especially as he watched the Mirkwood Prince scream. _This will be my ecstasy, _he thought.

Looking out on the enormous courtyard of the palace, he could see much work being completed. _The citizens assume that Thranduil has ordered the watchtowers built. They assume that the army Angrod has summoned was on orders of Thranduil. The army are not Elves – they are Wild Men, a mercenary army of the South, fearsome warriors – not once have they been beaten in equal odds._ He smiled…really; Mirkwood's people were TOO trusting.

'Lefellon?' The chief turned around.

'Yes, my lord?'

'How are the preparations?'

'Everything shall be ready in the time frame you requested, sir.' He permitted himself a small smile. 'It shall all be as you asked.'

'Excellent.'


	8. Chapter 8

**A short note: **See, see? (Points to chapter). The chapter ARE getting longer! My word count proves it...oh dear, overdose of happiness...anyway, to all women, happy belated International Women's Day! (Hands everyone a virtual flower). Hope your boyfriends/husbands/friends congratulated you on this happy day of getting whatever you want...(cough). Or at least breakfast in bed. Anywho...enjoy!

P.S - There is actuallya small dose of angst here, leading up to a much larger dose in the rest of the story...let my evil side come out! Yeah!

**Chapter 8**

The twin sons of Elrond looked down at Legolas' sleeping face. It was still and quiet, the soft features relaxed. Elrohir sat on the bed beside the prince, gently stroking the blond hair. It felt soft beneath his fingers, like a cat's fur.

Elladan sat on the reclining chair beside the bed, his eyes never leaving his twin's hand as it continued its calming path down the fair locks.

'Doing that is not going to make him better, Elrohir.' Elladan piped up, a harsh tone to his usually melodious voice.

'Perhaps it may bring him some comfort as he sleeps.' The younger twin replied, never ceasing the stroking. Elladan suddenly sighed a long weary sigh and sat up straighter.

'We have not yet told Estel.' He came to this realisation and mentally smacked himself on the forehead. 'How is he going to take this news?'

'Very badly.'

'You seem certain.'

'Indeed, I am…for two reasons. One being that Legolas is his best friend. The other is that he already knows.' Elrohir admitted and looked up to face his twin. 'I told him when you were in speaking with Ada.'

'Where is he now?'

'With Ada in the library working to find a possible cure. He told me he shan't rest until he finds it. And then he will kill the "stupid elf" himself when he is cured.' Elladan smiled at that, and came to sit beside Elrohir on the bed.

'You always think things through. We'll find a way for Legolas to fight this, don't worry. We have brought Legolas back from the brink of death more than once.'

'Hmm…' Elrohir thought back on the times they had done so. They were many, and yet each was very different from the previous one. The one that stood most clearly had occurred not long ago. Two years, in fact. He shuddered at the memory. _So much blood,_ he thought_ how can anyone lose so much and yet live? _

Looking at his twin, he saw the same shadows of memory running through his mind. They smiled at each other, and quickly looked away. That had been a bad time for the Peredhil, and especially Thranduil. He was brought back from his recollections by a small sound from the bed. They both sat up straighter, and Elrohir resumed the stroking of the blond locks.

'Legolas? Come on, sleepy, wake up.' Elladan's light, teasing voice called from Elrohir's other side, the cheerfulness slightly overshadowed by a hint of worry.

Blue orbs opened slowly and stared straight up, looking at a light blue ceiling. Then they travelled slightly down, resting on Elrohir, who grinned in reply, his hand halting once more.

'You drugged me.' A simple statement from the prince and Elladan moved around the bed, sitting on Legolas' other side. The Prince sat up slowly, and smiled at the twins. 'I should've known there was something in that tea.'

'That shows how much you needed the sleep, mellon nin.' Elrohir said, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the duvet. 'You would have realised there was a sleeping drug in there had you been your rightful self.' #My friend#.

A light teetering accompanied this little speech and Legolas felt himself growing more relaxed. He sank back into his pillows, but noticed the twins exchange glances with each other.

'Legolas, there is something that occurred while you were asleep.' Elladan began, looking pointedly at his twin, as if saying, 'do you want to tell him, or will I?' Elrohir gave a slight shake of head, leaving the bad news to his older brother.

'Hmm?' By now, Legolas had realised something was amiss and put on the look he was so well known for. The "tell me now or you die" look. Usually used on Orcs, and fell creatures of the dark, it worked equally well on the Peredhil family.

'A message was received from your father today, Legolas. And another just an hour ago, from Angrod.' He extended the Woodland King's hurriedly penned message. Legolas read.

'Ada believes me to be in danger?' Legolas asked, confusion etched plainly in his voice. 'I am fine though. The Wild Men may have been lying when they said that Angrod ordered them to capture me.' Wordlessly, Elladan handed him the second message.

Legolas read this also, and when he was done, his hands began to shake. Elladan, not at all surprised by this reaction, took the pale hands gently in his own.

'It will be all right Legolas. We will find a cure, I promise you will be fine.' The wood elf looked at the twins.

'You don't understand, Elladan. It is my fault this has happened. If I had not refused to take the throne, I…' his words were cut off by a sharp exclamation from Elrohir.

'Hey! Stop, Legolas, take a deep breath.' The wood elf tried to do as he was asked and succeeded after three attempts. 'Good, that's good.' Elrohir encouraged. Elladan squeezed the prince's hands in his own. 'Now Legolas, did you asked to be poisoned? Did you ask for any of this to happen? You are too young even for a substitute king for a time. Sometimes, Legolas, I think even Thranduil forgets just how young you are.' He drew the prince into an embrace, stroking the hair once more as he had done when he was asleep. He felt an immediate relaxation in Legolas' muscles and he continued doing so, whispering in his friend's ear.

'We will do this together, you and Ada and Estel and 'Dan and me…we'll all do it together, you'll be all right. Honestly, you will be. And so will your Ada. He will be here soon, he is on his way. We shall have word when he reaches the borders, they keep birds there for emergency messages. We will get one within the week, and your Ada will help you through.'

'There is just one more thing, Legolas.' Elladan said, almost tentatively. 'We do not know what the effects of this poison are. Nowhere did Thranduil say what this poison **does**. He smiled a little despite himself. 'So no hiding any symptoms, all right, little prince? This time, you really cannot afford to downplay any symptoms you have.'

'I know 'Dan. Thank you.' Legolas sounded tired again, and Elrohir helped him lie back.

'It's all right, Legless. Back on your feet in no time, all right?' Elladan grinned. Legolas smiled back, his eyes drifting halfway shut.

'Oops.' Elrohir whispered.

'What?'

'We forgot to ask him how he is feeling.'


	9. Chapter 9

**A short note: **This is just a nice surprise chappie to make everyone's day bright...(coughs). Please don't kill me for the cliffie! Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter 2.

**Chapter 9**

In Elrond's library, the atmosphere was tense. Estel's dark locks were pushed frequently back by a slightly trembling hand, as he pored over a book, entitled "_Common Poisons and Afflictions of the South_"Elrond sat at the opposite side of the table, scribbling indecipherable lettering on a bit of parchment. There was silence except an occasional sigh from Estel and the scratching of Elrond's quill. The tranquillity did not last long, as Estel moved forward and laid his head in the crook of his arms.

'Ada, I do not know what to look for until Legolas shows some symptoms of the poison.' Elrond looked up and paused in his writing.

'I know, ion-nin.'

'What will you have me do?'

'Go to Legolas and keep him company…you are right, if he does not show symptoms then we cannot know what to look for.' Estel looked up, his eyes shining.

'Really?' He asked, smiling at his father.

'Go on, I could do with peace. Legolas will want your company, especially after the twins drugged him. He won't be happy with them.' Estel grinned again and left the room, his step considerably lighter then when he had entered.

**4 days later… **

A messenger bird flew to the window, found the side that was half open and entered the room, fluttering its black wings excitedly. It knew of the family's troubles. Alighting on the desk, it twittered to get the attention of those in the room, of whom there were many. Elrond sat at the desk, poring over some aged parchment or another, and the twins each sat on one of the overstuffed bags on the floor. Legolas perched cat like on a couch, poring over yet another book on recognising poison symptoms and Estel was asleep with his head on Legolas' lap. The human's hair was tousled and he looked exhausted even as he slept. The Elves were also not fresh, eyes slightly glazed over as the first onset of weariness set in. There was companionable silence in the room though, and one which the bird hated to break. It twittered louder, demanding attention.

Elladan turned around and recognised the bird for what it was at once.

'Ada!' The elf lord turned and saw the little bird, which immediately flew over to perch on the piece of parchment Elrond had been perusing, smudging some of the still drying ink where Elrond had made additional notes. A formal letter was attached to its leg.

'I think this may be from your father, Legolas.' At these words, the prince looked up and smiled, his features completely relaxing. Anyone could have seen what complete trust he had in his father.

'Could you please read it to me? I do not want to disturb Estel.' He grinned at the human's face and smoothed away some of the dark hair resting across the forehead. Elrond cleared his throat and began the message,

_Hir nin, _he read.

The King of Mirkwood, Thranduil has just passed our borders. You asked for me to send word, so here it is – he shall be at the Homely House approximately midday. Hoping you are well,

_Rewernin. _

'Midday'. Elladan said, grinning over at Legolas. 'Excellent. Just in time for lunch.'

'You are as bad as a hobbit, oh brother of mine!' Elrohir reprimanded through a smile. The smile turned into a full pelt laugh when his twin's stomach growled. 'Honestly, 'Dan!' A sheepish smile was all that was extracted from the elf before their human brother sat up confusedly, instinctively leaning against Legolas as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

'Why is everyone so happy?' He felt the drastic change in the atmosphere even though the sleep was still evident on his face.

'Legolas' father will be here in approximately fifteen minutes.'

'That is swift, even for an Elven horse…' Elladan smiled at Legolas and got up from the ground. 'What say you to going outside and waiting at the gate for his arrival?'

All the children and extended family of Elrond Peredhil got up in a rush, and after getting slightly jammed in the door, filed out into the hallway, laughing.

Elrond thought of Legolas sitting there, and looked at the divan, picturing the elf, as he had been just moments before. The youngling was worried - Elrond could sense this. He was also much thinner than what he ever remembered him being, and it seemed to be getting worse. Elrond sighed. Too thin, much too thin…the food intake was not nearly enough even for an elf that needed little sustenance. With a sigh, he followed his family out of the door. He had nearly closed it when he remembered the little bird. Turning back, he whispered to it:

'Hannon le, mellon nin. You have brought us hope.' #Thank you my friends#

The bird twittered lightly in reply, then flew out of the open side of the window, into the noonday sun.

Thranduil rode into the courtyard of Imladris, bareback as usual and with his customary warrior braids done somewhat haphazardly. He slid off his mare, barely noticing as a quick thinking groom took Ferolin to the stables.

Legolas was standing on the stairs, looking at his father, taking in the dishevelled appearance before he hurled himself down the steps into Thranduil's awaiting arms.

He felt the familiarity of his Ada's embrace and this was enough to make him grip his father tighter and breathe in his scent – a mixture of the trees and his own special smell. It brought moisture to his eyes. _It is because of the pollen, _Legolas told himself, letting his hair be brushed back from his forehead. He was released gently and held at arm's length.

'You're thin.' Thranduil observed, looking at way the tunics hung off his son. Legolas said nothing, just smiled slightly. 'Have there been no poison effects, Legolas? Nothing to indicate what that **creature** gave to you?' He pronounced 'creature' as it itself was a venom that must be spat out with vengeance.

'No, Ada…apart from a slight loss in appetite, nothing that proclaims serious health issues.' Thranduil smiled and took his son by the arm, leading him up the stairs.

'I am glad in one way, Legolas, but if you have no symptoms, we cannot give you an antidote.' Legolas leaned against his father, smiling slightly. Accepting the majority of the other elf's weight, they continued until they reached the landing.

No one was in sight, the privacy was much respected between father and son, and thus no one but Thranduil saw the velvety shoes of Legolas falter. They tripped over each other, and the Mirkwood Prince sagged against his father. He looked up through glazed eyes at Thranduil, as he sank to the stone landing outside the door of the Homely House.

'Legolas…' Thranduil breathed, cupping his son's head with his hand.

'I tried to hold on, I tried…'His consciousness left him, and he went limp as a distraught Thranduil watched, tears gathering in his grey eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**A short note:** Yes, this one is shorter than usual. Simply because my muse left, but I still want to have a timely update, I am putting what I have so far up. I am trying to keep my chapters over 1000 words, but this one didn't quite make it. Sincerest apologies. Elvish translations will now be at the end of each chapter, because I think putting them after each paragraph containing Elvish interrupts the flow of the story. I hope you lovely people out there don't mind this, I just think it might be easier to read if I do it this way. Please tell me if you have a better idea, I will certainly take it into consideration…also, should I actually be translating Elvish words…I mean, ion-nin and Ada and stuff, people know those words, right? Or should I translate assuming they don't know? I hope that didn't confuse anyone…Enjoy this chapter! 

**Disclaimer: **Please see chapter 2

**Chapter 10**

He felt awful. This was the first feeling of awareness he had. The soft thing he found himself to be lying on did not stay still but instead kept rocking from side to side as if he was on a ship. Legolas was indeed now feeling the effects of the poison.

He struggled to open his eyes. As he became more aware, he realised there were voices above him. They were soft and familiar…this made him redouble the effort of regaining full consciousness. After a minute, one of the voices changed pitch and whispered:

"Thranduil, he is regaining his consciousness." A hand touched Legolas on the arm, and another touched him on the shoulder. With the added stimulants the touches brought him, his eyes cracked open and looked up at, again, the ceiling of his room. _I seem to be seeing a lot of this bedroom of late, _he thought wryly, moaning slightly as another set of wave of what he now realised was nausea swept over him.

"Legolas, I am going to just give you a tea, ion-nin. It will calm your stomach." His father's voice, Legolas realised. He smiled up at his Ada, certain now that he would be all right. If neither Ada nor Elrond could fix things, nobody could.

A cup was pressed to his lips, and he turned away at the smell of the drink. It was not particularly harsh in odour, yet his stomach turned in semi circles at the smell of it.

"Soga, Legolas." His father's soothing voice washed over him and he obediently opened his mouth to take a sip. When the slightly chilled liquid washed down the back of his throat, something inside of him felt like it was manipulated. As soon as it hit his stomach, Legolas coughed and brought it all back up again. The tea mixed with the bile from his stomach made him dry heave again, and moisture came to his eyes.

He felt arms rolling him to his side and wiping his face of what he had thrown up. A cool damp cloth was applied to his head, and he raised his forehead unconsciously to the cool and wet.

"Shh…it's all right." A different voice spoke up, and Legolas realised it was Estel. "Just breathe deeply, Legolas, it will pass." He smiled slightly at this…Estel would make an excellent healer. Soon, his breathing began to even out and he was able to look at a room where the roof designs did not spin interestingly around every minute.

"What happened?" Legolas realised his voice sounded croaky. Clearing his throat, he looked on his left side and found Thranduil sitting there He looked around the room and observed Estel, Thranduil and Elrohir there.

"You collapsed, Legolas. Right after you embraced and greeted me." Thranduil gently reminded Legolas. "It appears the poison has had its affects now."

"Yes, it appears so." Elrohir stated, smiling gently at his friend. "Um…Elladan? We need to, er…go help Ada." His twin looked at him.

"We do?" He yelped as his brother lightly pinched his back, and catching on, he followed an apologetically grinning Elrohir out of the room.

Thranduil sighed once the door was lightly closed and scooted over closer to Legolas, and took his son's hand in his own.

"It will be all right, ion-nin." He smiled and stroked Legolas' hair with his other hand, running his hand up and down the soft locks much as Elrohir had been doing several days ago. Legolas relaxed back into the pillows, his breathing completely normal. Without warning, he pushed himself up and immediately felt the effects.

His head span, and the room whizzed out of control. The intricate designs once more danced in circles on the ceiling, and he flopped back onto the pillows, breathing erratically once more.

"Hush, tithen-pen," Thranduil soothed, sitting cross legged on the bed and lifting his son's head and shoulders so he leaned against him. "Do not move. It will pass."

Legolas' breathing again rightened itself and he smiled at his father. _A small smile can take my very heart and wring it out…_Thranduil reflected, gently embracing his precious elfling to his chest.

**Meanwhile, at Mirkwood…**

Angrod sat at his desk, poring over a yearly planner. The scribbled in dates had little to no meaning to him – the planner had belonged to Thranduil. There was one date however that did catch his attention and he smiled slightly at it.

"Legolas' name day" was scribbled in theplanneraround the middle of winter. The ingestion of the poison had been so carefully planned to complete its course then. A time of festivities would be broken. _If Thranduil refuses to lose Mirkwood, _Angrod thought, a leering smile present on his face, _then the time from now to then will be most difficult for the young prince…most difficult indeed…_

Angrod dragged a piece of parchment towards him and dipped a quill in an intricately carved inkbottle. He wrote a message to Elrond, informing him of the effects of the poison. Dispatching it with a swift messenger bird, he leaned back. Sighing with contentment, he leaned back in his chair and grinned to himself. Now the fun really began.

* * *

I think I may have disappointed you lot with this chapter...is it just me or did it not work like I wanted it to? Please let me know if you liked/disliked, each critique is highly treasured. Thanks, you guys mean a lot to me. 


	11. Chapter 11

**A short note: **I apologise for the lateness of this. I do not have an excuse, but I do hope you enjoy this chapter! Elvish translations at the bottom.

**Disclaimer: **Please see Chapter 2

**Chapter 11**

Legolas opened his eyes and yawned, blinking blearily at the ceiling. Morning sunlight was filtering through, the last sunray of autumn making itself known to all in the valley. Legolas realised he now felt fine, all traces of nausea had gone and he felt as though he was perfectly healthy. _But there is poison running through my blood stream that will kill me, _thought Legolas. Catching himself thinking negatively, he redirected his train of thought to the day ahead. _If I am really lucky, Elrond will let me go practice some archery. _With that cheering thought, he got out of bed and, pleased to find nothing amiss, headed to the library where he knew he would find his father and the Lord of Imladris.

Walking on the way there, he passed a vase. It stood in the hallway, just outside the door to the library. It was blue in general with small colours of light blue, red and green. There was nothing special in particular about it, but Legolas knew it for a very special reason. His mother had painted the tiny blue flowers. It had been her hand that ran the tiny brush less than a tenth inch wide over the microscopic cracks in the pottery and filled them with colour.

_Naneth…_

_**Flashback…**_

_A small elfling with golden hair stood tied to a tree. His eyes were overflowing with tears, but he was not too proud to cry…not anymore. There was no point now in being proud. No point in anything, he thought. Not when his Nana was lying naked and dead in a pool of her own blood and the men who had murdered and violated her very womanhood gone in fits of laughter. Not when the guard were dead and lying in drifts around the clearing. Not now. _

_But there had been hope, even then. Even then Elladan and Elrohir had come – Elrohir ready with an embrace, a cool hand to a hot forehead and a healer's touch, Elladan with anger and then fiery love for the elfling that had seen so much before his time. Elrohir was the one who undid the bonds, and Elladan had covered up the Queen's body. Elrohir picked up the prince and Elrohir cradled the little one as he wept. _

_Even then there had been hope. _

_**End Flashback…**_

Legolas went into the library. Looking around, he noticed a small crumpled figure in the corner of the room. A small crumpled **Estel **figure. The boy was curled up to a small lump, seeming hardly significant in the huge expanse of the room.

"Estel…" Legolas called, coming closer and closing the door behind him. "What is the matter?" He crossed the room soundlessly and knelt in front of the boy.

"A letter. From your uncle. There was nobody else in the library and the bird gave it to me." Estel's voice was barely audible, and as Legolas looked closer at the child, he noticed his left fist was clenched over a piece of parchment. Taking it gently from Estel, he read it.

"I would rather you have not seen this, gwador-nin." At the usage of this intimate term, Estel stood up in a rush, tears streaming heedlessly down his cheeks.

"How can you say this, Legolas? If Angrod is telling the truth, you will not be my brother for very much longer. January, Legolas!" Estel dissolved into sobs, convulses that wracked his entire body. "January…"

Legolas wordlessly stood up from his crouching position, and put his arms about Estel, rocking him gently as the boy cried.

"You have always been there for me, mellon nin." Legolas said, whispering into Estel's hair. "Even when you were younger, you were there when I was brought in wounded, there when I recovered. You went so far as to breathe for me, do you hear my words? You will **always **be my brother, and know I love you forever."

Estel's sobs calmed, and he embraced Legolas. Pulling away, he sat down on the floor again, dragging Legolas with him. They leaned up against the wall together.

"Are you not scared?" Estel asked.

"Why should I be? I have had a full life and this time, when my life is sacrificed I do it for the noblest of causes – to protect my people. It is my job as prince, Estel. I protect the people, and one of the tasks that is involved in this is putting the people's welfare first. If Angrod gains control of Mirkwood, there is no telling what he will do to the rest of Middle Earth. After all…" Legolas paused, a glint in his eye "We are the best archers in the world!"

Estel smiled a little through his tears.

"Legolas?"

"Mmm?"

"Why do you not seem to be surprised?"

"Anything can come in this world through Fate, the mother of all good, and of all evil. It is Fate that decides, and when Fate has decided, we must all leave it to her to run the spectacle."

**

* * *

****In Mirkwood: **

"Is all still going as planned, Lefellon?" Angrod walked up to his second in command, clapping a battle worn hand on his shoulder. The hand was strong and firm, the hand of a warrior.

"It is my liege," Angrod said, turning around and meeting the fiery gaze of his captain. "Forgive my asking, lord, but what shall be the outcome of this?"

Angrod laughed, his harsh voice, lower than a normal elf's resonating in the stone hall in which they were standing.

"I hope to obtain Mirkwood…I know Thranduil will not give up the throne for his son, no matter how he loves him."

"But how?"

"Lefellon, it is simple. By turning the people of Mirkwood against the King." This time it was Lefellon who tittered, composing himself swiftly.

"The people will never leave their king, my lord. They are too loyal, too trusting."

"And it is their trust that will be their doom," were Angrod's words as he turned on one heel and exited the room, leaving a smiling Lefellon in his wake.

"Legolas?" Thranduil called. He stood in the doorway of the library and looked inside, squinting into the unusually bright light. Legolas got up, and went to his father, turning his back so that Estel would not hear what was said. The human remained on the floor, attempting to listen.

"Ada, there has come a message from Angrod." Legolas' voice was low, but it was calm and did not betray his fluttering feelings as to how his father would take what was about to be said. "He has now had the courtesy of informing us of the poison's effects."

Thranduil's eyes widened and he extended his hand for the parchment whereupon, written in pen and ink lay his son's fate. Legolas did not hand it over.

"Ada, it will prohibit me from eating food. It will stop me from digesting food; anything I try to eat will just come back up, just as happened with the drink of herbs you gave me. All but water will do thus."

Thranduil stood still. Legolas opened his arms and his father, as though he were an elfling, walked into them and cried. Estel sat on the floor as he was, although silent tears were pouring down his cheeks.

**

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**A/N** – please let me know how you like this new turn of events! Take care, and stay safe!

**Elvish translations: **

Naneth: Mother

Gwador-nin: My brother

Mellon nin: My friend


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**A short note: **

**Three weeks later: **

"How much more of this can he take?" There was a soft voice on the side of Legolas' room. Elrond sighed and clasped his hand on Elladan's shoulder. "He needs his father, Ada. I know I would."

"Thranduil is not coming back until affairs in Mirkwood are settled. He has a substantial army of elves from Rivendell with him, so he shall not be defenceless if all is not as it seems. Legolas needs him, but Angrod is not dead - you saw the letter. Thranduil is much cleverer than his brother gave him credit for, however, and all is not lost. The kingdom needs to be reclaimed. Thranduil is not naïve enough to assume that Angrod will give it up without a fight."

"Everything just seems to be neatly tied up in a little package, though, Ada." Elladan's voice took on a harsh tone as he looked over at the bed where Legolas was sleeping…eyes almost all the way shut. "It is all made up, Mirkwood shall be safe, but Legolas is not." His eyes misted over and he brushed at them angrily. "The decision is made, for the good of the people, et cetera…what about Legolas?"

Elrond embraced his son, pressing the dark head to his own shoulder. Letting him go, he spoke to his son, gently breaking news he knew would be hard to bear.

"This has been the hardest of decisions for Thranduil, Elladan. He will forever bear the scars in his soul. Now all we can do is bring him comfort and see if there is anything we can do to ease his suffering. There is nought in my library; I know all my books so well I can recite them. This is a new poison, but Elladan…"

Motioning his child closer, Elrond leaned and whispered in his ear. "I think I may have something that could help Legolas fight the poison. But it could cure or kill. If we have no other alternative…at the end, it is best to have a fighting chance then none. The use of this will be up to Thranduil."

"How long can he last?" Elladan's voice was full of pain, and it wavered.

"I do not know, my son. I should say not more than another four to five weeks."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

**In Mirkwood: **

Thranduil rode on with 800 elves from Rivendell. They were approaching the border of his kingdom, Lasgalen, as the people who lived there knew it. One of the only safe places in Mirkwood, the palace was well protected and kept at high levels of maintenance at all times. Its stone walls were plain and without ornament, but once inside, the palace was truly a majestic sight to behold.

Clouds veiled the sun and it looked like the morning was ready to weep.

Thranduil's thoughts strayed to his child, his youngest little boy, Legolas. There had been an older prince, many years ago...Orophin had been a beautiful babe, one that had been spoilt and nurtured. An infection in the lungs due to poisoning was all that it had taken for that young elf to be killed, leaving a distraught Thranduil coping with the death of half of his family.

_Ah, here are the palace gates. And watchtowers…hmm, that is original. Angrod seems to have taken leadership much to heart. _Thranduil's thoughts grew slightly more frantic as he approached what was once his kingdom. Anger mounted inside the woodland king, anger at Angrod and anger at himself that he had let Legolas get into such strife.

There was no one outside the palace walls, and there was one sentry posted in each of the five watchtowers, each elf looking down their nose at the approaching company. A shout rang out, a nonsense jumble of sounds, obviously meant to alert the leaders. Then everything was still.

Without a word of warning, arrows pelted out of the keep. Mirkwood archers were firing at the king and his consort.

Thranduil was at a loss of what to do. Elrond had said that the 800 elves travelling with him were his own to command…but could he shoot at his own people? What had happened to turn them thus against their king? And where was Angrod who had undoubtedly caused this to occur?

With a battle cry of his own, Thranduil made up his mind. He called the command to fire to Rivendell's troupe, and nocked an arrow to his bow. Aiming and staring down the shaft, he shot an arrow into a guard. A guard that wore the uniform of the Mirkwood guard elf.

Thranduil closed his eyes once the arrow had found its mark, burying itself into the chest of the elf. One of HIS elves…as the scream rushed out of the dying elf's lungs, he looked into the elf's face. He did not know the elf, did not know his parents, or his siblings, or his spouse. But the look of terror was the same, the same as it always was on the battlefield.

Blood poured out of the mouth of the elf, and Thranduil opened his eyes cautiously, to see the elf fall forwards out of the watchtower onto the ground. Shouting for someone to cover him, the King ran forward and looked into the elf's face. Turning the head to the side, he examined the features of the elf. Gasping, he looked again.

This elf was not from Mirkwood.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Um, hi? (Cringes). I am so, so sorry about the delay. I would NEVER give up on this story, and even though I did have strong blanks for a while I am back now (grins). I have had a couple of physical mishaps that…hindered my ability to type long amounts. I know it's not an excuse, I'M SORRY! (Grovels). On with the story!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own. For full disclaimer, see Chapter 2.

**Dedication: **To Lyn, for her amazing reviewing of my work, picking up details that I missed and her encouragement. You're awesome! Also to Andrew, Chris, Chris, Ollie, Angela, Kit, Nicola and Sophia. You guys rock as well; I don't know where I would be without you!

Chapter 13 

Legolas lay on the bed, cocooned in blankets. The lack of food was beginning to show on him, but the prince refused to complain, denying that his body was showing signs of deterioration. It was late at night, and the moon was at it's highest, shining across onto Legolas's duvet, where it made crossed patterns with light.

Legolas's breathing was soft and quiet and it appeared his rest was peaceful. Of this Elrond had made sure, before heading to his own chambers, ready to awaken the next morning and resume the ever present duties of keeping Legolas's spirits up until Thranduil arrived back, hopefully with a solution to the current problem Mirkwood was experiencing. Oh, and it was a problem.

Unfurling the letter in his pocket, Elrond approached his window where he could read by the light of the moon and a flickering candle. Thranduil had sent back the majority of the army Rivendell had willingly lent him, and along with the returning troops had come a letter from the King himself.

_Mellon nin, _

_If you receive this letter, it means your consort has arrived. I kept some for safety on the journey back…yes, I am coming back soon. I have some news for you – good and bad. Angrod has assembled an army and is keeping the kingdom well protected, as far as I can see. The bad news is that he is also keeping your warriors and myself out – forcefully. We were forced to retreat. I am in no physical danger, and there is no way I can speak to Angrod unless I send a messenger bird, which I did. He does not reply to it. From what I can surmise, he only wants power, not deaths. At least I can hope. But I do not understand, why my son? I would have vengeance, but it will take too much time. I am coming back to Rivendell to be with Legolas. Tell him to wait for me. _

_Thranduil. _

Elrond looked out into the night. Legolas had been extremely happy to learn that his father was fine, safe and coming home. The young elf had been as before this night, laughing and joking with the twins and Estel. It had been heart wrenching to see the pale face, bright eyes so animated for the first time since his father left. They should never have been dull in the first place.

Elrond looked out into the darkness, into the cobbled courtyard below. Thranduil and the rest of the elves should be arriving at dawn, if they had met no complications along the road. Legolas was now sleeping peacefully, and there was naught he could do just now but wait.

Leaning his head against the cool window, Elrond felt his eyes slip close and a sudden wetness enter them. Feeling the wetness slip down his cheeks, he realized he was weeping. _Well, this hasn't happened for a long time, _he thought, and quickly brushed the tears away. _There is hope, Elrond. Get a grip on yourself. _

Hooves sounded on the cobblestones. He realized that Thranduil was back; the first hint of sunrise was making itself known, which meant he had been standing at this window for six hours. Mentally shaking himself, he went outside to greet his friend, and was met in the hallway by Legolas.

The elf looked weaker every day, but his spirits were high. Legolas claimed that he felt no hunger after the first few days, and water now seemed adequate to fill him. Elrond inwardly was worried about this, but he said nothing to Legolas other than words of encouragement, which now seemed old to his ears.

_Your Ada will be here soon, Legolas._

_We're so proud of you. _

_There is always hope. _

How about now? It was as Elladan had said, "everything is tied neatly into a little package…"

"My father is here!" Legolas's happy voice broke into his thoughts. "I assume you are coming to greet him with me?"

"Of course, penneth." Elrond smiled at the young prince and took him by the arm. Lately, Legolas had been slightly unsteady on his feet, not entirely clumsy, but not as agile as he had once been. Thranduil had not seen the effects of starvation yet on Legolas, for he had left the day after receiving the letter. Now he would see, and Valar help Angrod when Thranduil laid his hands on him…after this was all over. It seemed only one end was in sight.

As they walked quickly out onto the landing, Thranduil was mounting the stairs. He ran the rest of the way when he saw Legolas and swiftly embraced his son, running his hands through the soft hair, noticing that Legolas was thinner, more drawn but still had a smile on his face when he drew back.

"How are you feeling, ion-nin?" Thranduil asked of his son.

"Not badly now, Ada, I am much better since you are here!" Legolas laughed, a light and melodious sound that made Thranduil wonder just how much laughter, hope and merriment his son contained for the supply not to be exhausted even now.

"Hannon le, Elrond. For looking after him." Thranduil directed his gaze now to Elrond, who he could see looked beyond exhaustion. "It seems you looked after him at your own expense. You can sleep, I will look after him."

Legolas smiled at Elrond and agreed with a nod of his head.

"Alright, but wake me should you need me for anything." After giving Elrond gave them each a stern glare, Thranduil and Legolas gave a nod of assent.

"Don't worry, Lord Elrond," Legolas said, giving him a pat on the back. "I'll be fine, truly."

Elrond smiled and headed up the stairs.

"Come on tithen pen!" Thranduil said as they watched the Elf lord disappear inside. "Inside yourself for a little more rest. I believe I am staying in your rooms?"

Legolas nodded his answer and turned to walk upstairs. Thranduil watched his son carefully as he walked and saw a slight off-balance. Sighing, he walked up the stairs with Legolas, observing his son lest he should fall.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **Thank you to the people that reviewed, and to all readers in general. You guys make my day a little brighter. Please enjoy this chapter. It is shorter than normal, but it was necessary to cut short there. I love the poem at the end, by Christina Rossetti. I copied it into my diary when I was 12, and have never forgotten it!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Lord of the Rings characters, only the plot of this story. I also do not own the poem "When I am dead, my dearest". This is by Christina Rossetti, may she rest in eternal peace. Please do not sue (I have no money anyway!)

**Chapter 14**

Not far from the palace of Mirkwood, an ant was on the move. It crawled over the small bits of bracken that impeded its passage. As it moved, it sensed a vibration in the ground and picked up its pace, making for the ant nest just at the side of the riding trail. Hurrying across, it never knew that it was violently trodden into the ground, never knew that death had come and gone.

The rider on the gray mare didn't know about the life he had just ended, so hasty was he to reach his destination, and he was so busy looking to the sides that he forgot to look ahead of himself. Arrows pelted out of the trees, and two found their mark, burying themselves deeply into the rider.

Feeling the sharp impact, the rider slid off the mare and fell on the bracken-strewn ground, mere feet of where the body of the ant now lay, covered in the dust thrown up by the gray mare's hooves. He gazed at the fletchings, and as his vision swam in and out of focus, he made out the coloured feathers attached to the arrows.

They were so alike to the arrows from Mirkwood; any other elf not from the forest would have said that they were identical. As the fallen rider jerked out one of the arrows and examined the poisoned tip, in his fading consciousness he noticed one subtle difference – the arrow had a small red circle painted on the smooth wood, an inch from the arrow tip.

­O.O

In the three days since Thranduil's arrival, Legolas appeared to be faring better. He was walking, and although he was a little paler than before, it was not marked. He had spent much of his time in the gardens, gathering comfort and support from the trees, the song of which he seemed to hear more strongly than ever. When he was not in the gardens, he was with Thranduil, reading, talking, laughing, sleeping or writing.

It was his son's writing habit that led Thranduil to believe that the younger elf was not feeling as well as he put on for the sake of himself and the Peredhil family. Rolls upon rolls of his flowing penmanship were tucked into a parchment file, sitting on a nightstand next to his bed. Everyday the file grew thicker; a testimony to how much Legolas wrote each night.

Sometimes Legolas let his father or one of Elrond's sons read something he wrote. It was usually a happy tale meant for children's ears, illustrated with intricate drawings of elves and men done by the prince himself Soon, though, Legolas stopped letting people read his work, claiming that the rest of it was just mindless scribble.

Estel knew differently, and one day he entered Legolas's room, accompanied by the yawning elf. It was not long after sunset, but sleeping had been something Legolas was doing more and more frequently. Immediately making his way to the nightstand, the elf poured himself a tall glass of water, downing it in three large gulps. Setting the glass back down on the nightstand, he gingerly picked up the file and sat cross-legged on his bed, patting the spot across from him as a gesture for Estel to sit.

The human complied, removing his boots and mimicking his friend's pose. Legolas patted the parchment file gently.

"Estel, all that you will find written in here is by my hand. Over the years, decades more than you have been on this earth, I have collected and written poems and prose. In here also are my innermost thoughts."

The young human smiled at his friend, thinking back to when that same parchment file, considerably thinner and less travel-worn, was at Imladris last time. Waking up from illness last year, Estel had recollections of opening his eyes and watching Legolas write or sketch, regarding the elf through the mist brought on by fever. He had then seemed surreal somehow, the sunlight or moonlight hitting the top of his head and giving it an angelic glow.

Legolas brought his knees up to his chin and leaned against the headboard of the bed. He opened and closed his mouth twice before forming the words he so desperately needed to say.

"I want you to have this file and it's contents, when I am…when I am…"

Estel moved to sit beside Legolas, placing a hand on a trembling shoulder and slowly enveloping his friend into a strong embrace.

Estel was close to the elf's height, built slightly heavier, and at sixteen years old, very sure of his abilities to negotiate life in general. Now, though…now…he was not quite as self assured that everything was going to turn out to his plan.

"There is yet hope, Legolas," Estel whispered, stroking the elf's golden locks. "You know, if it comes to the end and it is obvious nothing will change, we have something that may halt the poison. Ada told Elladan, and Elladan told me. I assume you know of this?"

"Yes." A soft whisper, barely heard replied.

"So all is not lost."

"No."

Anyone looking into that room at that moment would have felt a deeply layered sense of peace. That person need not be an elf, with their sensational sixth sense, they need not even be half-elf. Peace tinged with sorrow, the latter fading from the golden haired prince as he fell asleep – eyes closed.

The sorrow emanating from the young ranger-to-be was enough for the both of them.

When I am dead, my dearest,  
Sing no sad songs for me;  
Plant thou no roses at my head,  
Nor shady cypress tree:  
Be the green grass above me   
With showers and dewdrops wet;  
And if thou wilt, remember,   
And if thou wilt, forget.

-Christina Rossetti- (1830-1894)

**A/N:** Please review. I would love to know what people think of this story!

- Haline -


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Merry Christmas and a happy New Year! I hope you lot had a safe and happy festive season (I did!). I would just like to take the opportunity to say that Venice (and Italy in general) is beautiful, so if you ever get a chance to go there...do it! I have been away from the computer for a month or more, so apologies for the lateness (again). I hope you enjoy, and please, leave a review on your way out!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything that I write on here, excepting Angrod (and who would want to own him:- ). Everything else belongs to the Tolkien estate.

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Chapter 15 – _The Two Virtues_

Since Legolas's conversation with Estel, the Mirkwood prince had felt exceedingly worse. It was as if the parchment file had just been waiting to be spoken about, and once it had been, any end could come what will. The young prince rarely left his room now, and his clothing had to be altered to fit his emaciated figure. This was accompanied by the growth of soft hair all over his body, and an ever-increasing desire to sleep. A lot of the conversations involving the prince now finished with Legolas slumping in his chair, eyes closed and face utterly pale.

The rapid deterioration of the young prince's condition had been followed by news that was most grave to hear by all residents of Imladris. Rivendell and Mirkwood, once Greenwood the Great had sworn an allegiance to help one another in times of need. It appeared that such times were now at hand. Word had been received via messenger bird that a vast army was marching on Imladris, and the snows that would block the High Pass were nigh at hand. In a few days, all passage to Mirkwood would be forfeit. If Angrod desired a battle, there was no escape for any of Imladris' residents. Vilya could be used to keep the valley unseen to unfriendly eyes, but the ring's magic did not stretch so far as to deny entrance to an elf that already knew the locations and potency of the elven stronghold. Their time of arrival was estimated in around six days. Rivendell's situation was parlous indeed.

While Imladris housed several warriors whose name was mentioned in history and lore, there were not enough fighting elves to withstand an attack by one of the largest armies seen in these parts. Angrod used all manner of creatures in his wicked games. There were, of course, elves corrupted by greed or the mere promise of their own kingdom to live in. These elves had mostly been exiled from their homes in Mirkwood, Lothlorien or Rivendell for committing any manner of crimes, most frequently treason.

He used Men, also. Angrod had found men were much easier to bend to his will, to convince them that his plans were, indeed, the best thing for all. These were, therefore, very great in number.

Finally, Angrod used orcs. Creatures of the dark that had no inhibitions to hurt, maim or kill. These were his favourites. They asked no questions and hated each other just as much as they hated their own enemies. They lacked intelligence and free will, so were not capable of betrayal. Even if they were, their betrayal meant nothing, as they did not have the intelligence to be able to take information in, and repeat it accurately to other ears.

Combined in total, Angrod had an army of five thousand.

O.O

Elrond sat in an armchair near the window of his study. His loose hair fell over his shoulders, and the front sections were slightly curled from being in braids. It was late, he thought, perhaps close to midnight. Legolas had been asleep for almost five hours. Today he could not leave his bed, and when he tried to sit up for water, a dizzy spell had claimed him. It was not the first, but it had been severe.

Thranduil had come to him a few hours ago, after Legolas had fallen asleep, asking about options. The conversation that had ensued was not one Elrond had imagined he would be having with one of his dearest friends. Even more so, he had not imagined that anything like this would happen to the young elf he counted among his own children.

While Elrond considered hope one of the most important virtues a creature could possess, he also believed in the virtue of truth. And the truth was that Legolas was dying. In his conversation with Thranduil, he had learned that the elven king had accepted this bitterly, and with much pain, but then had questioned the choices he had to make for his child and for his kingdom.

For Legolas there had been two options. He could have slipped away in peace, his final days spent quietly with family of the blood and family of the heart. Or he could have taken a substance that could purge some bodies of some poisons. This would either cure him after a few painful days or make his last, dying moments unbearably agonizing. Now, however, with the approaching army, the situation had shifted and only the hopeful option remained.

There was now no way that Legolas would be allowed to slip away peacefully. Angrod had timed his arrival perfectly, coordinating it with Legolas's last days. Thranduil had also asked "how long?" To this, Elrond had no definite answer.

"A week, perhaps", he had answered, running a hand over his hair and sighing.

"I would rather he did not see a battle he cannot fight in."

"Then we must prepare to either lose him early, or have him fight with us, cured. We can give him the tonic, and hope for the best. If we do this soon…" Elrond had paused, looking at the world-weary face of one of his dearest friends, "it will be decided either way in the next three days."

"And is this your advice, mellon nin?"

"It is."

"Then I know it is sound. With no one else would I have placed the trust of my son's care."

Elrond had smiled and motioned to a small vial sitting innocently on the shelf.

"We must talk to Legolas."

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**A/N: **Well, what did y'all think? Please, leave a review! 'Til next time!

**-Haline-**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Time for another chapter, the story is winding to a climax! A battle scene in two chapter's time! Please leave a review, reasoning down the bottom:-) **

**Disclaimer: Don't own recognizable characters. Do own Lefellon and Angrod. (Not so proud of owning those, either!) **

**Chapter 16**

When Thranduil and Elrond entered the room, Legolas was lying on his side, two blankets partly covering him. His pale green nightshirt was slightly twisted, exposing the right side of his ribcage. Thranduil stood over his son, examining the prince's terrible state.

The ribs beneath a thin layer of transparent skin were like ridges in a plain…ordinarily a contradicting statement, but so applicable in this case that Thranduil took a step back as the young elf rolled over and opened his eyes, roused to half-awareness by an unusual presence in the room.

The King was ready with glass of water poured from the pitcher by the bed, and soothing words to calm his agitated son.

"Ada?" The voice was unbearably soft and weak, and it pulled at Thranduil's every heartstring. He sat on the bed and cradled Legolas's fair head in his own lap, smoothing the thin hair covering the scalp.

Throughout this, Elrond had been standing near the doorway, watching the brief exchange between his friend and his current patient. He came forward now, soft skin boots making no sound on the wooden and rugged floors. He smiled at Legolas, and sat on the bed, beginning to lightly rub the prince's hand.

"How do you feel, Legolas?" Elrond queried.

"Tired," was the exhausted whisper, "like I do not have the strength to continue this."

Legolas had long ago abandoned all attempts at pretence and cover up…it was useless, and he knew that this was one battle that he could not win. It was written in his eyes. Hope still flickered there, but it was dim, and failing quickly. Elrond gripped Legolas's hand tightly, trying to lend some strength as Thranduil stroked his son's hair. Legolas had almost drifted off again when Elrond quietly whispered,

"Do not sleep just yet, dear Legolas. We have come to bring renewed hope in the face of war." The prince again opened his eyes and tried to sit up. Thranduil quickly rearranged some pillows on the headboard and leaned Legolas on them. The said elf rubbed his eyes to rid himself of the lasting effects of sleep, as Elrond began to talk.

O.O 

The High Pass was experiencing some doubtful weather. The skies over it were gray, cloudy, and fog covered the Alps surrounding it, rendering visibility as extremely poor. The sun had only just risen, but Angrod and his army were struggling to continue their ascent to the peak. At long last, Lefellon approached his commander to tell him the obvious.

"My lord, we cannot continue like this."

Angrod turned to look at his commander in chief, fiery eyes blazing.

"We must, Lefellon. Do not presume to speak above your rank." Lefellon, used to the harsh words from his liege, was not daunted.

"Our men are tired, and the other creatures are beginning to get rowdy. We shall have half an army at this rate, my lord."

"The longer we linger, the more time Mirkwood will have to gather forces to aid Imladris. Do not forget that the wood elves are trusting, but not stupid. No doubt the guards have discovered our camps. We do not have the time to linger."

"We killed the bearer of a missive to Thranduil informing him of all that has taken place. We were not able to find the missive's scribe, as it was unsigned. But in any case, the army needs rest, especially the men, so we can be fresh to attack in a week."

Angrod nodded, seeing his commander's reasoning. "Send word back to all troupe's leaders. They are to take rest as well as they can for the next day and night. Tomorrow morning, we will move on, with only brief rests until both kingdoms are exterminated; Imladris and Mirkwood will fall, along with all royalty belonging to both houses."

O.O

"What say you, Legolas? We give you a choice, and the choice is entirely yours to take."

By the end of the deciding conversation, the Mirkwood prince's room was decidedly crowded. Legolas was propped up on pillows on his bed, looking extremely tired. However, his eyes held a small glint not to be missed for what it was – hope.

Elrond was perched catlike with his legs folded under him, sitting on top of the red bedspread. Thranduil was sitting next to Elrond, close to Legolas, his head resting on his own knee. The remaining occupants were uninvited, but insisted that they should bear witness to it too. The twin sons of Elrond, as well as the adoptive teenager were sprawled in various positions on the floor, close enough to the bed so as to closely observe Legolas' features, but far enough so as to give the said prince some room.

"This is not a choice you give me, for I see no option but one." Legolas began to speak, smiling wanly. "It is better to die knowing that you did all possible to halt your own death, than to lie here dying knowing that there could have been a totally different outcome." He paused once more, making eye contact with everyone in the room. "I will take the tonic, Lord Elrond, and I will take it with no regrets no matter the outcome. I want to fight with you to the end."

There was stillness in the room after Legolas had finished his short speech. For perhaps a minute, no one spoke, and then Thranduil reached forward to envelop his son in his embrace.

"Then let us not delay!" Elladan cried. "Let us give Legolas this potion, as he wishes, and then we will wait and give comfort no matter what."

"He cannot drink it." Elrohir said quietly, bringing the obvious to everyone's attention.

"He does not have to, it can be absorbed through the bloodstream," said Elrond, giving the room a small smile. "If the poison itself was in the form of a dart, then we will do the same with the antidote."

"You want to stab Legolas?" A small voice came from the corner of the room, from Estel. The boy had been silent up to this point, but now he spoke.

Legolas smiled tenderly and reached out to the human. Estel scrambled up onto his bed and let himself be pulled down and cradled against his best friend's chest. Legolas stroked the boy's hair with a trembling hand and spoke gently into his ear.

"No one is going to stab me, Estel. They won't do it violently; they will just make a little hole so that the antidote can run into my veins. There'll be a bit of blood because they have to cut the vein in my arm, but it won't hurt me."

"I'll be there, Legolas," the human then whispered, sitting up and leaning Legolas against him. "I'll be here always."

"I will too." This statement came from everyone in the room, one by one. It was as if they were all pledging their vows.

"Goodness, what commitment!" Joked the prince, laughing. "No one has to marry me!"

Real laughter then permeated the room, a joyous sound that filled every corner, every nook and crevice. Elladan and Elrohir, of one mind as always, leaped onto the bed, puckering their lips and leaning into their friend as if for a kiss. Estel laughed and started humming the traditional wedding tune, complete with percussion against the bedside table.

Thranduil and Elrond left quietly, barely missing a certain elven prince attempt to throw a pillow. The light cushion made it to halfway across the bed, not flying high enough to reach Elrohir's face, the intended target. Legolas looked down at his hands, flexing the finger weakly. How would he be able to wield his bow in the upcoming battle if he could not now throw a pillow with accuracy?

**A/N:** There you have it folks! Long by my standards, too! Please leave a review, my muse, mailbox and mother all appreciate it! (My mother because I am strangely docile after someone leaves a review. She can get me to hang up the washing and everything!) Take care, everyone!


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